


Watercolor Bruises

by lifeofwry



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofwry/pseuds/lifeofwry
Summary: Post-Here Lies the Abyss. Waverly Adaar and The Iron Bull take an unconventional approach to helping each other work through their fears and hang-ups. TW for past sexual assault.





	Watercolor Bruises

_Thwack!_

Out of the corner of her eye, Waverly Adaar could see passers-by slowing their pace to watch her strike The Iron Bull in what must have looked to them like a bizarre training exercise. She supposed it was, in a way.

_Thwack!_

“Oh my!” A woman in a frilly dress and mask looked scandalized and stopped to watch, as if it was all a spectacle for her entertainment. “In Orlais, we confine these activities to the bedroom, no?” she giggled to her partner.

_Thwack!_

“Fuck off.” Waverly made sure her voice carried to where the women were standing several yards away. “This isn't for you.”

_Thwack!_

“That's enough. I'm good.” Bull stopped her before she could ready the next swing. Waverly felt foolish for letting her temper fly; that’s what everyone expected of a Qunari woman, Inquisitor or not. Having to constantly be on her best behavior to guard against accusations of her inherent savagery only made her more frustrated.

“You sure?” She asked him. She saw him hesitate and look over at the people walking by, mumbling to each other in a way both of them were entirely used to, but still entirely uncomfortable with. “Hey, eyes front,” she said. “This isn’t about them; it’s about you.”

“Yes, but it’s also about you. You don’t need this shit.” He walked forward and wrapped her tightly in his arms despite the bruises spreading across his chest. Waverly had to admit the near-constant scrutiny was starting to take a toll on her nerves. Bull kissed the top of her head and took her hand. “Let’s go.”

Waverly led the way to her quarters, shedding any pretense that her relationship with Bull was strictly professional, or even strictly sexual. All her life, she’d answered to no one but herself, and she was determined not to compromise that for the Inquisition. She loved who she loved, politics be damned.

As if he could sense the edge in her step, Bull placed a hand on Waverly’s shoulder. “You sure?” He asked her on their way into the main hall. “You don’t have to prove anything just because--”

“I wear the title. The title does not wear me.” She looked him in the eye. “I will do as I please, and I have nothing to hide.”

Bull smiled and followed her through the hall. “Whatever makes you happy, _kadan_.” They entered the room and Waverly collapsed back on the bed with her feet hanging over the edge.

“Want me to get those for you, boss?” Bull gestured to the boots she was still wearing.

“Ugh, please do.” she groaned. “People exhaust me. At least I’m not expected to stay on a demon’s good side.”

Bull laughed. “I don’t know about that. Some of the more distinguished ‘guests’ at Halamshiral had me wondering…” He sat on the floor and started unlacing Waverly’s knee-high boots, which she had tied impossibly tightly.

“You’re right,” she sighed, “all Orlesians are demons. How could I have been so blind?” she grinned as Bull popped the boot off her left foot.

“Now you just sound Fereldan.” He chuckled and gently ran his hand up the back of her calf

“Ooh!” she shuddered and sat up. Her skin felt like it was crawling where Bull had ghosted his hand over it.

“Sorry, _kadan._ ” Bull placed one hand firmly behind her knee and the other just below it, then planted a kiss on her shin. “I forgot.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “It’ll take some time to get used to. I know it’s unusual, and I’m sorry, I just…” She didn’t know how to describe the sensation without making Bull feel horrible about it.

“Light touches freak you out, I get it.” He offered as he resumed loosening her laces for her.

She swallowed and nodded. It wasn’t Bull’s fault, but he was the one who had to adjust to the way she, unlike any other sane woman in Thedas, couldn’t stand a gentle touch. It reminded her too much of other hands in other crowds, slithering across her body, darting across her skin as if she wouldn’t notice them grazing the curve of her ass or brushing the swell of her breast. Men with hands like that always made sure to slip them on and off of her like a card trick, to deny it when she protested, claim that it was an accident, she’s overreacting, she’s a crazy, angry, ox-woman and that’s just what her kind do, as if any self-respecting man would even look at a brute like her. And then, every time, they’d smile. As if degrading her and humiliating her wasn’t enough, they would smile at her like it was all just a game, and they’d bested her yet again.

That’s how she ended up joining the Valo-kas in the first place. Some slimy Orlesian groped her at a market outside Val Royeaux, and when Waverly turned around to call him out, he laughed in her face and started to walk away. Shokrakar saw it all happen.

“Stop, theif!” Shokrakar cried. The crowd, thinking the man was making off with a merchant’s wares, blocked his path when he tried to run.

“I didn’t steal anything!” he looked up at Shokrakar and her drawn blade in horror.

“That’s funny, my friend here says you picked her pocket.” Waverly went along with the act and stayed silent, knowing she had a few coins to spare should the armed stranger demand payment for her help. The crowd dispersed, not so much that they couldn’t still watch, but enough to keep their distance from the band of Qunari mercenaries.

“I swear I never stole anything, I only--” the man stuttered.

“You only what?” Shokrakar grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a stone column, lifting him off his feet. “In Seheron, stealing costs you a hand and lying costs you a finger, so why don’t you tell the truth?”

“I did nothing! Someone get this bloody ox-bitch away from me!” The man cried. Shokrakar sheathed her longsword and nodded to two other mercenaries, one of whom drew his dagger while the other held the man’s wrist against the column.

“Hold still.” She commanded.

Waverly heard the crunch of bone and the man’s screams, then footsteps behind her.

“You Tal-Vashoth?” Shokrakar asked.

“Are you going to kill me if I am?” Waverly questioned defiantly.

Shokrakar laughed. “Of course not. We have to stick together.”

“I’m not Tal-Vashoth.” Waverly clarified. “I’m Vashoth.”

“Same difference out here, am I right?” Shokrakar smiled and shook her head.

“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen Seheron in my life.” Waverly was still suspicious of this well-armed troupe, regardless of whether they had grey skin and horns or not.

“They don’t really cut people’s fingers off in Seheron. I was just bluffing.” Shokrakar admitted, then handed Waverly a quiver of arrows. “I’m Shokrakar.”

“I’m Waverly. Waverly Adaar.” She felt clumsy introducing herself. She hadn’t had a civilized conversation with anyone in a long time.

“Your new bow is back at camp, Adaar. That one looks like shit.” Shokrakar pointed at the weapon on Waverly’s back. “Welcome to Valo-kas.” She turned on her heel and walked further into the market.

“What if I don’t follow you?” Waverly called after her, still holding the arrows.

“You will.” Shokrakar called back without turning.

***

“Don’t cry, _kadan_.” Bull wiped away tears Waverly hadn’t realized were falling.

“I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath, then another. They were uncomfortably deep and too fast, and she still didn’t feel like she was getting any air. She pressed her palms together and made herself slow down, counting each breath in two cycles of four, like measures of music.

“Hey, hey there. You don’t need to be sorry, either.” Bull sat beside her on the bed. “We’ve all got some shit to work through and our own ways of working through it.” He reassured her and  pointed to the purple splotches across his torso. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have taken you to Adamant with me. Demon army and all that.” Waverly mused.

“Nah.” The Iron Bull shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I would have been pissed if you didn’t ask me to come with you. I didn’t know we were going to fall into the Raw Fucking Fade, but shit happens, I guess.” He laid back on the bed, and Waverly did the same. She felt her heartbeat slowing, and steady breathing required less of her concentration.

“Thank you.” She looked into his eyes.

“For what?” he asked.

“For wanting to be with me and protect me. For understanding me. It’s… This has been more than I expected it would be.” She confessed.

“Of course, _kadan_.” He held her hand in his and kissed it, his touch firm but tender. “I used to tell myself I wanted to be wherever you were because it was my job to be the Inquisitor’s personal bodyguard… but deep down, I knew.”

“You didn’t know the half of it.” Waverly teased. She sat up on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her and started taking her thick raven hair out of its tight topknot.

“You’re right, this is way better than I thought it would be.” Bull admitted as moved toward her and pulled her into a kiss. “And I thought it would be pretty damn good.” He put his hands on her waist and deepened the kiss. Waverly started unbuttoning her blouse.

“You sure you’re up for this right now?” He asked her.

“I’m not the one covered in bruises.” She tossed her shirt across the room and bit his lip when he kissed her.

“Not yet.” He slid her pants down and threw them in the general direction of her shirt, then started stripping his own clothes. “But you might be after a few hours.”

“Hours?” she laughed and flipped over, propped up on her elbows. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” She looked back at him over her shoulder and grinned.

“You ready?” He straddled her legs and steadied himself with one hand on the small of her back, a touch that grounded and reassured her.

“Yes, please.” she wiggled her bottom.

_Thwack!_

The first one always made her laugh…

_Thwack!_

…and the second one made her self-conscious for laughing at the first.

_Thwack!_

But the third one snapped her away from the anxious reeling and self-conscious swirling of her mind. It called her attention back to her physical body and firmly planted it there. Here in the present moment, where she was safe and she was loved, she could finally relax...

_Thwack!_

...and enjoy the ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first published fic; say hi and let me know what you think. :)


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